’ ‘For shame, Hilary,’ admonished his fiancée, casting a pitying glance at the refugees. ‘You the fellow Gerald spoke to?’ Kimble flushed beetroot, and Melusine had a flash of insight. ‘Major Alderley, ma’am, and General Lord Charvill. On the next morning—Sunday—the day on which he expected his mother's funeral to take place, he set out along the Harrow Road.
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